


Bed

by Yods



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pointless fluff, Post-Season/Series 02, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yods/pseuds/Yods
Summary: Foggy comes home late, tired and slightly tipsy.  There’s a surprise waiting for him at home.





	

Yup. That was definitely Matt. 

Foggy blinked at him, slightly off kilter.

Lately, when they run into one another at the courthouse or wherever, he didn’t know whether to smack Matt upside the head or burst into tears or just walk up to him and make jokes like he used to. It usually just ended up with them ignoring each other or in brief deeply awkward conversation they were both eager to escape. Marci rolling her eyes at them didn’t help.

He tried to avoid hearing about Daredevil, since that tended to get him closer to the ‘smack upside the head and burst into tears’ part of the spectrum.

And now, here was Matt, asleep in his bed. Foggy was just drunk enough to find this hilarious. And the slight sulk he’d been feeling at going home alone again was rapidly morphing into relief, because it would have been very hard to explain an unexpected scruffy weirdo is his bed to Janet-of-accounting.

Actually more than just scruffy. Up close Matt looked like he’d aged ten years in the last couple of months. Looking like that he wasn’t going to be scoring anytime soon either. Hah.

“Matt.” No reaction apart from a slight snuffle.

“Maaaaatt!” Foggy pursed his lips. He wasn’t going to laugh.

Matt mumbled and blinked fuzzily, half-asleep and bleary-eyed. 

And then stiffened, eyes wide. “Oops.” He gaped in Foggy’s direction. “I, uh…”

Foggy considered Matt’s crazy sticking-up hair and shocked expression. “You’ll catch flies that way.”

His mouth clipped shut. And immediately opened again, trying for words. The goldfish imitation was perfect. Ten out of ten. Matt always did aim for the top of the class.

Biting his tongue hurt. It’s a good thing Matt couldn’t see the facial contortions he was doing to keep from laughing. “What are you doing in my bed?” Foggy was proud of how absolutely level his voice was.

Matt flinched into the full-on Murdock-patented guilty expression with a side of awkward shiftiness.

“I did—didn’t mean to fall asleep in your bed.” It almost sounded like a question.

Foggy sniffed. That could totally pass for a dismissive snort instead of a choked back giggle. Yup. “Yeah, I got that with the ‘Oops’ part. I was kinda hoping for more explanation.”

Matt swallowed. “Your window was open.” He gestured vaguely to his left. Yes, that was his bedroom window, thank you, Matthew. “And it started to rain-” 

Foggy considered this for a moment. He didn’t remember any rain, but he was in a club most of the evening, so it was possible. The sidewalk was damp when he walked home, but only slightly. 

Verdict – plausible. 

Matt mumbled to himself. “So I figured I should close it. But. But your windows close from the inside.” The guilty look was progressing. “I sat down, just for a moment, and I guess I must have fallen asleep…” He had worked his way to full golden-retriever shameface. Foggy wobbled slightly in his attempt at seeming stiff-backed and annoyed. Falling asleep and working your way under the covers. Also plausible, but…

Foggy blinked. “Does that mean you’re wearing shoes in my bed right now?”

There was a movement that could only be Matt wiggling his toes under the covers. “No.”

Foggy mentally downgraded the verdict from plausible to technically possible at best. He raised his eyebrows and didn’t bother to narrate. Then a bright new thought occurred to him.

“How did you know my window was open?”

The guilty look was working its way to defensive. “I can tell. From the roof.”

“You just happened to be on my roof. When it just happened to be raining. And my window just happened to be open.” Leading the witness. But in some cases it was necessary.

Matt fidgeted and poked at a bruise on his wrist. It hadn’t escaped Foggy that he was still sitting in his bed. “Yeah.”

Foggy stared at the distinct lack of stupid horns. “You were hanging around on my roof in street clothes,” he tried out slowly. Matt grimaced. “Or did you change out of the suit before ‘accidently’ falling asleep in my bed. Which, don’t get me wrong, is better than getting into my bed with the suit on, but—“

Matt took a deep breath. “I have trouble sleeping, sometimes.” He petted the blanket aimlessly. It seemed to help. “And sometimes I… sometimes I sit on your roof.” He flinched, as if expecting a blow.

“So you sit on my roof at night, and what? Listen to me? Spy on me when I’m at home?” He should be angry. He really should. Matt looked miserable. He was tempted to swat at him with a newspaper. This was intrusive. He had every right to be mad. The image of Matt pining on the roof in the rain bubbled into his brain. _Smack him upside the head or burst into tears or just make jokes like he used to._

Foggy wasn’t even really aware of coming to a decision. “I miss you too, ya weirdo.” Matt frowned at him. “Scoot.”

“What?”

“Scoot over. It’s late and I want to go to sleep.”

Matt frowned at him and shifted over cautiously, clearly not trusting whatever was happening. Foggy wriggled into bed and switched off the lights. One benefit of finding random vigilantes in your bed is that at least the sheets were warm. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness, very aware of Matt’s tense breathing next to him. And started to giggle.

“Are you laughing at me?” Matt sounded hurt. Foggy could clearly imagine the furrow between his eyebrows.

He hiccoughed and his laughter petered out. “Would you prefer me to be mad at you?”

“No.” But he sounded petulant. Matt valued his dignity pretty highly. Verdict – lie.

Foggy huffed and poked at Matt with his toe. “You said you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Matt turned on his side. A bedspring pinged. “Yeah?”

“So that would be why you look like crap.” It wasn’t really clear to him whether concern or amusement was winning out.

Matt didn’t say anything. Foggy could feel his shrug in the movement of the blanket.

He grinned to himself. “Goodnight Matt.”

It was quiet for a while. Matt’s breathing was slow and considered. “Goodnight Foggy.”

He’ll probably be angry tomorrow. He’ll definitely be angry if he wakes up and Matt is gone without saying anything, which was the most probable outcome. But for the moment he had a weirdly cuddly ball of rage and neuroses curled up next to him, and that was OK.


End file.
